The Way to a Man's Heart
by ashtrayhearts
Summary: Ginny is getting married and Harry is supposed to help organise her wedding. What sounds like a complicated situation only gets worse when Harry walks into a Muggle shop and encounters one Draco Malfoy, pastry chef extraordinaire, who claims not to remember Harry, the Wizarding world, or even his own name.


The room was a mess.

There were cosmetic articles and discarded pieces of clothing strewn all over the room and the bed was an indistinct heap of dresses and skirts and tights.

"I can't decide what to wear!" Ginny, who was standing in front of the mirror, exclaimed, wringing her hands.

Harry tried to make space on the bed and ended up pushing half of the clothes to the floor. He looked at them for a moment and then at Ginny, who didn't seem to have noticed, and then shrugged and sat down, facing her.

"This is new," he said. "You were never that nervous about clothes of all things when _we_ were dating."

Ginny waved him off, tugging on a beige skirt before frowning at herself in the mirror and pulling it down again.

"Don't be daft, that was different."

Harry raised his eyebrows, trying not to look offended. He knew Ginny didn't mean it that way. Probably.

"Oh, do stop sulking, Harry. That's not what I meant and you know it." She walked over to him and bent down to kiss his forehead. "It's just… dating is _hard_. We've been together for so long I feel like I'm all out of practise."

Harry smiled and pulled her down next to him, slinging an arm around her shoulder and holding her close. "I know. But Zabini adores you; there's no need to worry." He kissed the top of her head. "His parents will love 're funny and smart and beautiful."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Ginny quipped and nudged him before she dropped her head to Harry's shoulder, sighing and appearing to be deep in thought. "Is it hard for you too? I mean, I know it is. You being you and gay and all that, but…" She shrugged. "Never mind, it's a stupid question."

"It is." Harry shook his head, looking at them in the mirror and thinking they really looked like the perfect couple. "Hard, that is, not a stupid question."

Ginny chuckled. "I bet it's hard."

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped his arm, leaning back against the pile of clothes and looking up at the light blue ceiling, thinking about what could have been with an odd lack of regret.

"You know it would have been you if things were different, right? It still was, for a time."

"Of course I know," Ginny replied, sounding matter of fact. Harry could feel the mattress lift a little as she got up and returned to the mirror. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine. More than fine, really. Blaise… he makes me happy."

"That's good then."

Harry cleared his throat, feeling a little uncomfortable in the ensuing silence.

"So, have you seen Ron's new partner? He's fit, isn't he?"

Harry groaned and just like that, they were back to the easy friendship they had maintained since they had broken things up romantically.

"Shut up, Ginny."

Ginny laughed and went on talking about Ron's surprisingly handsome, charming new partner Harry had taken great care not to ogle too obviously because he was Ron's partner and as okay as Ron was with his being gay and quitting the Aurors, that would just be uncomfortable.

_3 months later_

When Harry unlocked the door to his flat, he didn't expect to find someone already inside.

"Hermione? How did you get in?"

"Oh good, you're here!" Hermione said, somewhat confusingly as it _was_ Harry's flat after all, and looked up from her book. "I've been waiting for you."

Harry frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Apart from your abysmal wards? No, not at all." She got up and busied herself making tea for both of them.

Harry shook his head with a fond smile and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, propping his head up with his hands as he watched Hermione, letting the slight pass because Hermione was probably right.

"How's Ron?"

"Busy at work, but I think he likes it. He'll meet us at the Leaky tonight if you're free? One spoonful?" she asked holding up Harry's sugar basin.

"Yes and yes, I'm free."

Hermione nodded and sat down opposite him, pushing his cup of tea over to him and looking at him over the rim of her own as she blew on it.

"Good, because I was sort of hoping you'd help me with something."

"Oh?" Harry inquired. Hermione rarely needed help with anything.

"You know I'm Ginny's maid of honour of course…" Hermione began and Harry nodded. The engagement had been surprising to most people, but he sort of thought they should have expected it. When Ginny was in, she was in for good. Except when her boyfriend decided he was gay of course, but that was besides the point as Zabini seemed to be as straight as they came.

"Well, I'm honoured she chose me of course, but we're making serious progress on the new legislation on house elf rights right now and I don't really have a lot of time. I think it just needs a bit more convincing and the Wizengamot will vote on it." She went on about paid holidays and clothes for a while, her cheeks flushed as she talked faster than Harry could follow.  
He smiled and nodded in all the right places until Hermione returned to the subject at hand. "I'm sorry, it's just all so exciting at the moment. I think I have the chance to really make a difference. Anyway, as I was saying, I won't have enough time to help Ginny as much as I should, so I was hoping you would help. I'll still organise everything, but I'll need you and Ron to run some errands, talk to some people… Are you alright with that?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, of course. Why are you in charge of the organising?"

Hermione shrugged. "Ginny is travelling with the Harpies and Blaise is accompanying her. She doesn't want Molly to do everything because… well, you know her. She'd try to take over the whole wedding and turn it into something that wouldn't be Ginny's style at all. She says they just want a small wedding, so it shouldn't be much of a problem. I think."

"Alright, don't worry about it. I was starting to get bored anyway."

Hermione took a sheet of paper from her book and handed it to Harry. "Thank you, it's all on here."

Harry snorted. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised she had considered him a sure bet. He skimmed the list and grinned when he saw Hermione looking slightly guilty as he looked up from it.

"Already counted me in, did you?"

"Sorry?" she tried, not looking sorry at all.

He rolled his eyes. "It's fine, it looks feasible."

She gave him a wide smile and stood, hugging him briefly before she moved towards the door. "Thank you, Harry, really." Before she let herself out, she turned around one last time, frowning at him. "And you really should do something about that job situation of yours. Do you want me to talk to someone? We could always use more people in the research departement-"

Harry cut her off. "No, thanks. I have it under control."

She gave him a doubtful look, but nodded and closed the door behind her with a "See you later."

Harry sighed.

She was right; he should do something about his 'job situation' as she called it. The only problem was, he didn't have any idea about what to do after it turned out being an Auror wasn't all it was cut out to be.  
Or rather it was, but Harry was so tired of constantly hunting down wannabe-Voldemorts, he quit less than a year after finishing his three-year-Auror training.  
For a while it had felt like everything was falling apart: his career, his relationship with Ginny, his conviciton about his own sexuality.

Truth be told, things were still difficult, but they were looking up. Moping didn't help anyone as Hermione and Ginny had pointed out aptly when he locked himself away in his flat and didn't come out for three weeks and he had never been one to spend his time idly so he wasn't going to start now.

He glanced down at the list in his hands.

Where better to start than help one of best friends plan his ex-girlfriend's wedding?

The marketplace of the small Muggle town was abuzz with people running errands and buying vegetables and meat from the local vendors for that evening's dinner. People seemed to know each other and often stopped to chat and show off or compare their new acquisitions while their children were running around chasing each other.

Harry looked around to see if someone was looking in his direction and then pulled off his Invisibilty Cloak when he saw no one was. He stepped out into the sun and tucked his cloak into his bag before he shouldered it and made his way to one of the shops framing the place.

"Cakes, Catering and More" the sign outside said in curly pink letters and Harry wondered why they couldn't have just chosen a Wizarding catering service and been done with it. But Hermione had insisted and if Harry was honest, he didn't hate cake-tasting _that_ much, so he had found himself with yet another detailed list, this one of top notch pastry shops and catering services.

"Hello?" he called out.

There was no answer, but he could hear someone bustling about not far away. He took in the dozens of cakes displayed behind the glass and the different sorts of biscuits lined up neatly on the shelves, amongst which were books to choose cake designs from along with a few small tables and chairs all over the room. Only two of them were occupied and both customers were reading and didn't seem to notice Harry.

He turned back to the cakes, hoping they'd taste as delicious as they looked and then noticed a man had appeared behind the counter. He was giving Harry a friendly smile and was waiting for him to step closer.

Harry's jaw dropped.

"Are you my ten o'clock? It's nice to meet you; if you'll follow me, I prepared a variety of wedding cakes you can choose from in the next room."

When Harry still didn't say anything, the man's smile turned into a frown.

"Sir? Is everything alright?"

Harry shook his head. "I- _Malfoy!?_"

The man shook his head. He really did look like a more mature, less sneering, Malfoy, but Harry knew Malfoy and there was no way he would lower himself to work in a Muggle shop, wearing Muggle clothes and a bloody _apron_.

"You must be confusing me, sir. Are you new around here?"

Harry crossed his arms. "Very funny, Malfoy. Did you know your mother had a nervous breakdown when they couldn't find you? Where have you been for the last three years?"

Malfoy was looking more confused by the second, flour sprinkling down from his hair onto his shoulders as he shook his head.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but you've clearly lost your marbles. Either buy something or get out."

Harry began to seriously doubt his own perception. This was Malfoy, wasn't it?

"But... No, it's alright. I mean I'm sorry. I really must have confused you," he said slowly, giving Malfoy a hopeful look. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he definitely wasn't going to walk out and forget all about it. If Malfoy wanted to be a prat then that wasn't really much different from usual, was it?

Malfoy frowned at him for a few more seconds and then suddenly the wrinkles on his forehead vanished and he gave Harry a wide, smooth smile. It was almost eerie. "Of course, don't worry about it. Do you want to taste the cakes now?"

Harry nodded wordlessly and Malfoy held open the swing door of the waist-high divider, gesturing for him to come behind the counter and then led him to the adjacent room. It was a state-of-the-art kitchen with clean counters on which were placed at least ten different wedding cakes, some of them five layers high and all of them looking more impressive than what Harry was used to seeing and he'd been invited to quite a few weddings over the past few years.

"That's... wow. You made those?"

Malfoy nodded, a small smile playing around his lips. "Naturally." He pulled out a chair for Harry, who only then noticed the table in the corner. "If you sit down, I will bring you a sample of each."

Harry did as suggested, sitting down heavily, tapping a nervous rhythm on the tabletop as he waited. It wasn't long before a slice of what looked like strawberry-cream cake was placed before him. He gave Malfoy a doubtful look and then picked up his fork, hoping this wasn't all an elaborate ploy to poison him, and then tentatively took a bite.

"_Oh._ Merlin, this tastes _delicious_, Malfoy."

"How often do I have to tell you I'm not 'Malfoy'?" Malfoy snarled, pulling the plate away from him.

"Hey! Okay okay, you're not! Can I have my cake back now?" Harry hurried to mollify him.

Malfoy gave him an annoyed look and shook his head. "No." He brought Harry another slice of cake though.

Harry didn't hesitate before trying it this time, and he wasn't disappointed. The cake was so good he actually moaned. "What _is_ this?"

Malfoy was giving him an odd look, but then he beamed at Harry. Harry got the impression he was more than a little proud. "Dark chocolate and Cointreau. The freshly grated orange zest gives it the extra something."

For a moment, Harry thought maybe it really wasn't Malfoy. Malfoy would never bake cakes and _beam_ at Harry. He took another bite. "You made this just for the tasting?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him and this was finally an expression Harry recognised. "Well, I could hardly bake a subpar cake now, could I? Apart from the fact that it's physically impossible for me to make anything less than perfect, I wouldn't land any commissions that way."

Harry had to concede the point, but he rolled his eyes anyway. That had sounded almost like the Malfoy he knew. When he attempted to slide another piece of cake onto his fork, Malfoy pulled his plate away once again.

"I didn't say anything this time!" Harry protested and Malfoy chuckled. "No, but you have to try eight more cakes."

"I could have eaten that _and_ tried the rest," Harry grumbled, but Malfoy was already setting down another plate so he stopped talking and began eating.

Half an hour later, he leant back, groaning. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I can't possibly eat any more cake."

Malfoy smirked and sat down opposite him, licking the butter cream off his own fork with relish. "All the more for me. God, this really is delicious, isn't it? I'm good."

Harry snorted. "I guess you never were one for modesty."

Malfoy looked up at him with a glare. "Why do you keep talking like you know me?"

"Because I _do_ know you" Harry said, resting his elbows on the table as he leant towards Malfoy, who followed the movement in the other direction. "Don't you think this has gone on long enough? I understand why you would want to leave the past behind you, although how you ended up as a pastry chef of all things is anyone's guess, but you can't just pretend not to know me."

Malfoy stood and crossed his arms, his eyes shuttered where they had been sparkling only moments ago. "Get out."

"What?"

"Get. Out. I have no idea who you are, but I don't want to see any more of you. You can't just walk into my shop, eat my cake and accuse me of lying!"

Harry swallowed. "Look, Malfoy, I'm so-"

"That's _not my name!_" Malfoy screamed. Harry paled. "Okay, it isn't. I'm sorry, I really am." He paused. "What is your name then?"

Malfoy glared at him and remained silent, pointing at the door.

"Fine, I'll go. Will you still cater my friend's wedding?" Harry asked, thoughts already racing as he contemplated ways to solve this mystery. He wondered if Ron would help him get access to Malfoy's file.

Malfoy hesitated. "It's not you getting married?" he asked reluctantly. Harry shook his head. "No, Ginny." When Malfoy's face stayed blank and he refrained from making a joke about blood traitors, Harry added "My ex."

Harry considered it an accomplishment he got Malfoy to raise both his eyebrows. "You're choosing the wedding cake for your ex-girlfriend?"

Harry shrugged. "It's complicated."

"Isn't it always?" Malfoy drawled.

Harry ignored the underlying sarcasm and gave him an expectant look. "So will you do it?"

Malfoy sighed. "Which cake do you want?"

Harry suppressed a smile and pointed at the second one in the neatly row of neatly lined up cakes on the counter. "The chocolate one, please."

Malfoy gave him a curt nod and led Harry through the door and out into the customer area, where a few people had lined up by now. He gave them a slightly guilty look and hurried to attend to them, leaving Harry standing around and feeling awkward. He supposed it was Malfoy's 'subtle' way of letting him know he was dismissed.  
Just as he was about to turn around and leave, Malfoy addressed him again.

"Potter, was it? You're going to need to come in for another tasting soon unless you want me to choose the rest of the food." He said the last part almost hopefully as if he didn't want Harry to come in again.

Harry grinned at him. "Tomorrow, same time?"

Malfoy nodded, keeping his expression neutral as he wrapped up a few cupcakes for a customer and Harry finally turned around to leave. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, he heard the next customer ordering "one pain au chocolat and how much is the 'more' you're offering outside?" He heard Malfoy's annoyed "It's getting old, John." as the other customers in line laughed and then the door fell closed behind him.  
He wondered what that had been about and then the sign outside Malfoy's shop caught his eye again.  
He laughed, and through the window waved at Malfoy, who graced him with another glare. As he walked away to search for an empty spot to Apparate, Harry whistled.

Life had just got a lot more interesting.

"You _what_? Ron stared at him, dumbfounded. "You met Malfoy? Draco Malfoy? In a _pastry shop?_"

Harry nodded, tipping Ron's visitor chair back and putting his feet onto his desk. "Yup. Well, he says it's not him, but he's clearly lying. Either that or someone is Polyjuicing as him."

"It's possible, but what motive would they have? Malfoy's been missing for three years and he wasn't exactly popular before then. Besides, who would Polyjuice as a former Death Eater and then go work in a Muggle pastry shop?" Ron frowned.

"Yeah, I don't think it's very likely either. I'll check for Polyjuice next time I'm there anyway. I should have done it right away," Harry said, mentally berating himself for not thinking of those things when he had had the opportunity to test his theories right away. He blamed Malfoy's cakes.

"And you said he didn't remember you? At all?" Ron asked, looking into the distance as if he were trying to make sense of the story Harry had just told him.

"No. He got really angry too. Kept insisting his name wasn't Malfoy."

"And he was really _baking?_" Ron chuckled suddenly.

Harry kept his serious expression for a few seconds and then made the mistake of meeting Ron's eyes. He broke out into laughter, nodding and letting his chair fall back onto its legs. "He was, I swear! He even wore an apron."

At this, Ron started laughing so loudly, several of his colleagues poked their head round the wall dividing his cubicle from the other Aurors', amongst them Ron's new partner. Harry tried and failed not to notice how fit he was and hurriedly looked away, but not before he saw Ron rolling his eyes.

They exchanged a few jokes, some of the blokes Harry had either gone to school or Auror training with slapping him on the back, and then Ron and Harry were alone again.

"So do you think he was lying?" Ron asked, twirling his wand through his fingers and scowling when he dropped it onto his desk.

Harry shrugged. "Not sure. My gut feeling says no, but Malfoy's always been a good liar, the little shit. Who knows?"

Ron nodded grimly. "True. Though I have to admit I can't see him staging his own kidnapping so he can open a Muggle shop."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, it's a bit hard to believe it's not just a cover. But… you didn't see him, Ron. I could have sworn he didn't recognise me and yet… Why would someone _Obliviate_ him just to let him live in peace?"  
"Are you sure it's an _Obliviate?_" Ron queried. "It could be all sorts of things: a curse, a potion, even a hit on the head."

"If he got a hit on the head, it was while he was still a baby." Harry grinned and then got up. "Can you get me his file? I promise I'll return it soon."

Ron pressed his lips together, looking unhappy about it, but he nodded. Harry knew how much trust he was putting into him - he had sat through the same confidentiality lectures Ron had.

"Wait here, I'll be back in ten," Ron said and disappeared.

When he got back, he seemed to have made a decision. He handed Harry the file, and Harry put it away, waiting for Ron to speak. He knew his best friend well enough to recognise the torn expression on his face.

"Look, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but it might be related..."

"I'm not going to tell anyone," Harry promised immediately.  
Ron nodded. "I know. Alright. Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "How?"

"No one knows," Ron admitted. "We're trying to keep it silent and catch him as soon as possible, but if we don't find him soon we're going to have to alert the masses to look out for him. The only reason we haven't done so already is because we don't think he's planning to kill anyone."

Harry briefly wondered how they knew that, but decided they must have good reason to think so. "Where do you think he's going?"

Ron shrugged. "No idea. He was seen near Azkaban and then nothing. He's probably already sipping cocktails in Florida, but who knows. Just... look out, yeah?"

"Yes, sure. I'll let you know if I hear anything," Harry said.

"Thanks, mate." Ron put his feet on the desk. "Now tell me more about this apron. Were there flowers involved?"

The marketplace was less busy this time and Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak off right away, striding over to Malfoy's shop and entering, the little jingle as he did so proclaiming his presence.  
Malfoy's eyes flickered over to him, but he was talking to a customer so Harry sat down in a chair and went over his plan again. He had spent half of last night reading Malfoy's file. He had already known about Malfoy's sudden, inexplainable disappearance more than three years ago of course - it had caused quite the uproar when Harry had first started Auror training - but he had been too busy fending off the press and adjusting to his new training schedule back then to investigate further. Older and more experienced Aurors had handled the case, not that they had got any results. Malfoy had stayed missing and after Narcissa's infamous nervous breakdown in public, most people had assumed him dead.  
Which was why Harry should probably tell the Aurors what he knew, but for some reason he wanted to keep this for himself for a little while longer. Besides, Ron knew, so that counted for something, didn't it?  
The rest of the file had been disappointingly uninformative. There had been an investigation, which to Harry seemed a little half-arsed, but nothing had come of it. Malfoy had vanished at home, so there were no witnesses aside from his mother, who hadn't seen anything. No drops of unidentified potion or remnant curse energy or signs of struggle.

"Is that all?" Malfoy asked and pushed the wrapped up slices of cake towards the woman he had been talking to, who nodded and carefully extracted some Muggle money from her purse, her long fingernails scraping over the expensive-looking material.  
"Yes, thank you."  
She was petite and her dark brown hair curled around her face and down her back in long ringlets. Harry was sure he had never seen her before and yet... There was something about her that seemed familiar.  
When the woman exited, he stood and went over to Malfoy, trying to shake the feeling and concentrate on the task at hand. Which was to be nice to Malfoy and not actually call him by that name to get him to spill some details.

"Hey," Harry offered, reaching out his hand.

Malfoy looked at it for a split second and then took it. "Hello." His tone was neither friendly nor rude. "You're early."

Harry nodded, sliding his fingertips over Malfoy's palm as he let go of his hand. "I wanted to apologise for what happened yesterday. Turns out I really did confuse you with someone - he lives close. You bear an uncanny resemblance, but I shouldn't have assumed, I'm sorry."

Malfoy gave him a searching look, seeming to hesitate for a moment, and then his face broke out into a wide smile. Harry thought he looked relieved.

"Apology accepted. Do you want to get started on the menu now? I'm afraid you can't taste anything until next week, because Sylvia - my partner - is on leave until then, but I can tell you what we offer and you can decide what comes into question for the wedding." Malfoy held the swing door open for him again, and Harry followed him into the kitchen.

"You have a partner? Is she..." Harry trailed off, not wanting to pry, but wondering if Malfoy had somehow managed to start a business _and_ get a girlfriend in the three years he had been missing. Somehow, he didn't like the thought and it wasn't because of the fact Harry had managed neither. Perhaps he should get someone to _Obliviate_ him. It seemed to work for Malfoy.

"We're business partners," Malfoy said, looking like he was biting back a smile. "She's on leave because she had a baby three months ago. I've been handling things on my own since then, but it will be a relief to have her back."

"Of course." Harry nodded, hoping the heat in his cheeks didn't mean he was blushing and sat down on the same chair he had the day before. Malfoy took something that looked like a cookbook from one of the cupboards and sat down opposite him. "So, you're only the cakes part of the business then?"

"Mostly, yes. It's what I do best, although I help Syl out too when things are busy." He shrugged. "We do most things together." It sounded like he was missing her. Harry's mind boggled at the idea of Malfoy having actual friends.

"Did you know each other before you started a business together?"

"God, yes. She was the one who convinced me to do it. It's always been a dream of hers, and with her cooking and my money and baking skills..." He shrugged. "It works. I'd never have thought of it - I don't actually have a gastronomic education, you see," he said and then pulled a face. "I probably shouldn't have told you that. I assure you my cakes are the best you'll find."

"I know, I tasted them," Harry laughed, fascinated by this new, almost human side, of Malfoy.

Malfoy grinned, smug, and then opened the book. As he leafed through it, Harry saw that there was a picture of a dish along with a description on every page. "That's what I can choose from?"

"Yes, but these are just the standard dishes. If you have a special wish or and idea, you can tell Sylvia, and she'll try to make it happen." Malfoy nodded and looked up from the book. "Do you?"

"Not really." Harry frowned. "I'd have to ask Ginny..."

"Not to sound curious, but are you really organising your ex's wedding?" Malfoy pushed the book towards him so he could take a look. "Isn't that... awkward?"

"I'm not organising it, I'm just helping out a little," Harry said distractedly, baffled by how many different soups and salads alone there were. "It's alright, we're on good terms. It was difficult at first, because we... Well, we didn't break up, because we were fighting or anything and going back to being friends was hard, because we kept falling back into our old routine so we decided to stay apart for a while... But it's all good now that she has Zabini."

When he glanced up, he saw Malfoy frown, looking like he was trying to hold himself back from asking something. Harry raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Why did you break up?" Malfoy looked like he was uncomfortable asking personal questions, and suddenly Harry realised who he was talking to. He swallowed. It was one thing to tell him details about his break-up with Ginny, but to give him ammunition for the rest of Harry's life? Then again, Malfoy didn't really look as if he would love to ridicule Harry right now, and he only needed to open a Wizarding news paper to read all about Harry's sexuality. Harry took a deep breath. Perhaps it wasn't even Malfoy.

"I'm gay," he said, forcing himself to keep eye contact.

"Oh," Malfoy said, and Harry thought he could see the tiniest hint of red on Malfoy's cheeks, but then Malfoy looked down at the book again, his hair falling into his eyes. Harry had the strangest urge to brush it back for him. "So did you see anything you fancy yet?" Malfoy changed the subject.  
Or not, according to Harry's thought process. He bit his lip, focusing on the pain to get rid of unwanted thoughts about Malfoy and then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Look, if it's going to be a problem, you better tell me now," Harry said tightly.

"What?" Malfoy looked up, and he was definitely flushing. "No! I didn't... It's not going to be a problem."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Alright then. The menu?"

"Right," Malfoy said. "Do you want soup or salad for the first course?"

They spend another hour discussing possible food choices until they had a list with things Malfoy's partner would prepare for their next meeting, and then Malfoy led Harry out of the kitchen, greeting the girl who must have arrived to work the register at some point. Malfoy offered Harry something to go, and he chose a blueberry muffin, surprised when Malfoy wouldn't accept his money.

"It's on the house," he smiled and Harry couldn't help smiling back.  
"Thank you."

Before he left, he made another appointment for the next week and then added, casually, "I'm sorry, I feel like a prat, but I don't think I caught your name?"

"It's David," Malfoy said.

"I'm Harry," Harry replied. "Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you, Harry Potter."

The gravel driveway was deserted; Harry couldn't even see the white peacocks he remembered from his last visit to the Manor. He wondered if Narcissa had got rid of them after Lucius had been incarcerated for the rest of his life. They were rather pretentious, in his opinion.  
He was still thinking about how to get inside, wrapping his fingers around the iron gate that was higher than himself, when a small figure appeared in the distance. He squinted, his hand wandering to the pocket where he kept his wand, and then he saw it was just a house elf. He smiled and relaxed, waiting for the house elf to arrive.

"What is Mr Harry Potter's business here?" the elf squeaked, looking up at Harry with wide black eyes.

"I'd like to see Narcissa Malfoy, if she's here," Harry replied kindly.

The elf nodded, and with a flick of his wrist, the gate opened to let Harry inside. He hurried to get in and felt, rather than heard, the gate snap shut behind him. He followed the elf to the main entrance and was just about to ask where Narcissa was when the elf disappeared with a _pop_, leaving Harry alone in the huge entrance hall.

"Hello?" he called out hesitantly, his voice echoing.

When no answer came, he shrugged and chose a door at random, walking down a narrow hallway, which ended with two high glass doors leading directly into the garden. He hesitated and then stepped outside.

"Anyone here?" he called again, not surprised when no answer came. He sighed and continued into the garden, the rows and rows of spring flowers causing him to step closer. He was admiring a cerulean rose, which seemed to have thorns on its petals, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He yelped and turned on his heel, wand at the ready and arm upraised.

"There, there, young man, no need to attack," an old man said, holding up his arms in a surrendering gesture, his voice laced with amusement.

"Who are you?" Harry challenged, keeping his wand pointed at the man. He didn't think there was any danger, but it never hurt to be careful.

"The Gardener."

"No, I meant what's your name?"

"Just the Gardener," the man repeated, a wrinkled smile spreading across his face. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Fine then, can you tell me where I can find Narcissa Malfoy?" He lowered his wand but didn't put it away.

"Certainly," the man replied. "She's inside, having her afternoon tea. What do you want from her, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I just need to ask some questions," Harry said, pocketing his wand. The man didn't seem to be an immediate threat and he was sure he could take him in a fight. He hadn't known there was someone else living on the Malfoy estate, but it wasn't like he was privy to every detail of the Malfoys' life.

"Oh?" The Gardener raised his eyebrows. "Maybe I could be of use then?"

Harry gave him a searching look and then shrugged. "Why not," he said, thinking it couldn't hurt. "Where you here the day Draco Malfoy disappeared?"

He thought he saw something flicker across the man's face, but it was gone too soon to make sense of it. "I was," the man said slowly. "Are you an Auror then? I thought the investigation was closed."

"It is, and I'm not," Harry replied carefully. It wouldn't do to let the Auror department know about this. "My interests are of a more personal nature," he added. He wondered if the man really didn't know who he was or if he was just acting his part. There weren't many people who didn't know Harry in the Wizarding world. Or at least there weren't a lot of people who didn't _think_ they knew Harry in the Wizarding world.

"I see," the man smirked.

It took Harry a few seconds, but then he groaned. "Not _that_ personal. I'm just an old... acquaintance," he said, because 'enemy' would have sounded ridiculous and 'friend' was too much of a stretch to be believable.

He thought the man looked relieved. "So you're looking for him all on your own?"

"Something like that," Harry mumbled. "Did you see anything out of the ordinary the night he vanished?"

"Not that I can recall, no." The Gardener shook his head and then crouched down to feel the earth, presumably to see if the flowers needed to be watered. "It's unseasonably hot," he added in a non-sequitur, head turned away from Harry.

"Right. Anything before that? Unscheduled visits, signs of abnormal behaviour, suspicious looking strangers creeping round the estate?" Harry asked half-heartedly.

His heart sank when the man shook his head again. "Nothing. Nothing at all," he said and then let a steady stream of water pour out of his wand.

"Well, thank you. Can you tell me how to get to Mrs Malfoy?"

The man seemed to hesitate for a second, but then he nodded. "Inside to where you came from, then take the left staircase up to the first floor and the first door on the right."

Harry thanked him again and then went inside. Just before he entered the house though, he looked back. The Gardener was still there, not paying any attention to Harry as he randomly watered every third flower. Harry frowned, wondering what it was about the man that just didn't sit right with him, but then he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous, and made his way back to the entrance hall and up the stairs. He stopped just before entering the room and raised his hand to knock gently.

"Come in."

The room was held all in soft blue colours, a few of the roses Harry had seen outside adorning the otherwise unused surfaces. Narcissa was sitting on a high-backed chair in front of the window, her legs crossed and a book in her lap.

"Mr Potter." She nodded. "I have been expecting you."

Harry wondered why she hadn't send the elf back if she'd known he was here, but didn't bother asking.

"Mrs Malfoy." He felt a bit awkward just standing there, but she hadn't offered him a place to sit yet.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" She delivered the words in a polite voice, but Harry wondered if there was sarcasm hidden somewhere underneath the smooth tone.

"I was hoping you might answer some questions," Harry said, sitting down on the edge of the elegant sofa, facing Narcissa. If she had objections to his soiling her expensive furniture she would have to voice them.

"I told the Aurors all I knew," Narcissa said, terse.

"I know, but I thought maybe there was something else you remembered? Something you didn't tell the Aurors right away?" Harry tried to keep his voice friendly, despite Narcissa's obvious distaste of the subject. He remembered her face when she lied to Voldemort to save Malfoy, the sheer determination. She would have done anything for him; losing him as well as Lucius must have crushed her.

"There's nothing," she repeated, her voice like ice. "And with all due respect, Mr Potter, I do not wish to discuss this any further."

Harry almost winced. "Look, I know it's hard, but-"

"Why are you asking for him at any rate?" Narcissa interrupted him. "It's been more than three years and there hasn't been a ransom demand. Whoever kidnapped him had politcal reasons. He's dead by now."

Harry hadn't expected her to say it outright. He had thought of her as someone who wouldn't give up, who would keep hoping until the very end. He opened his mouth to tell her Malfoy was fine, that he'd found him... and then he closed it again. What if it wasn't Malfoy? He was almost certain it was him, but he'd been wrong before, and the picture's of Narcissa's breakdown a few years back kept flashing in his mind. He couldn't give her false hope.

"I'm sorry," he said instead. "I shouldn't have tried to dredge up old memories."

"Quite right," she said, offering no acceptance of his apology. They were silent for a few uncomfortable seconds, and then Harry cleared his throat.

"Well, I'll just be going then."

She nodded stiffly and opened her book. He was clearly dismissed. Before he left the room, he glanced at her again. He thought he could see her taking a letter from between the pages of her book, but he wasn't sure and then the door closed.

"Well, that was fun," he said to no one in particular.

Harry pushed open the door to the now familiar shop and looked around. Malfoy didn't seem to be around, but the girl working the register gave him a welcoming smile, and the woman who had seemed so familiar last time was sitting at a corner table, reading a book Harry thought he had seen before somewhere.  
He went to get himself an oversized brownie and a coffee and sat down at the table next to hers, opening his Muggle newspaper. If he had learned one thing during the war, it was that unrest in the Wizarding community usually reflected in the Muggle world.

"You're new," someone said, startling him out of a slightly inappropriate daydream that might or might not have featured someone looking suspiciously like Malfoy.

"Wh- oh yeah. I'm Harry. Who are you?"

"Sylvia," the woman smiled and sat down opposite him. "Call me Syl."

"I thought you're not supposed to come into work until next week?" Harry said without thinking.

Syl laughed. She had a nice laugh; her whole face lit up as she threw her long ginger hair over her shoulder. "Has David been gossiping?"

"Maybe a little," Harry grinned once he remembered she meant Malfoy. "How's the baby?"

"Fit as a fiddle and demanding all my attention. I only came in to check on Dave; I think he's missing me," she said with a mock serious expression.

"I think so too," Harry replied, meaning it.

She nodded a bit more seriously and then smiled again, her eyes sparkling with something that reminded Harry of Ginny.

"I take it you're Harry Potter then? Dave's been talking about you."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Oh, has he? Only good things, I assume?"

"Of course," she chuckled, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "I actually think he's quite taken with you."

"Yeah, right," Harry snorted.

"No, really," she insisted. "I haven't heard him talk that much about anyone in the two and a half years I've known him."

"That long, eh? How do you deal?"

"He's really not that bad once you get to know him," Syl chuckled. "You should try."

"I really don't think he's interested. Not in _that_ way anyway," Harry said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He had never seen Malfoy with anyone but Pansy Parkinson and that had been a long time ago.

"Dave? Are you kidding?" Syl raised her eyebrows. "He's as bent as a nine bob note."

"No, he isn't," Harry said automatically. "I would have noticed."

"Would you though?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, were you looking for it or did you just assume he wasn't interested?"

"I... Well, I guess, I..." Harry stammered. If he thought about, he _had_ assumed. But he was right to, wasn't he? It was _Malfoy_ after all. He thought about the way Malfoy had blushed and looked away when Harry had told him he was gay. "I might have jumped to conclusions."

Syl smiled. "Yeah, it happens."

"Why are you doing this? Do you usually walk up to random customers and try to get them to hook up with your friends?"

She laughed again, ruffling his hair as she got up. "No, you're special. I like you."

Harry rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, messing it up further. "I feel so honoured."

"You should," she nodded, voice serious, but eyes dancing with laughter.

"You know, I have a friend you'd get along with well." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, attempting a scowl as he looked up at her. "She's always playing match maker too since we're not together anymore."

"Would that be the infamous ex then?" Syl asked. "The one you're doing all this for?"

"I'm not really doing much, but yes, that's her. She's great." Harry wondered what Ginny would say if he told her about Malfoy. He recoiled from the thought. She'd probably abandon her Quidditch career just to interfere with his love life.

"You're a strange man, Harry Potter," Syl stated, giving him a curious look.

Harry laughed. "So I've been told."

Syl opened her mouth to reply and then her gaze focused on someone to Harry's left. "Can I get you something, Mrs Smith?"

Harry's head jerked round. He had completely forgotten about the woman at the table next to them. She was shaking her head emphatically, looking like a deer caught in the headlight of a speeding car. "No, no, thank you," she mumbed and almost threw her book into her handbag before she left the shop hurriedly.

"Strange woman, that one." Syl frowned. "Comes here almost every week and reads for hours before buying anything. Ah well, the perks of working in the service industry." She shrugged and focused back on Harry. "Can I get _you_ anything?"

"No, thanks," Harry said absentmindedly. "I think I'll be leaving too. Are we still on for the tasting next Wednesday?"

"Of course," she said and then smirked. Harry wondered if it was something she had picked up from Malfoy. He suspected not; she seemed devious enough all on her own. "Do you want to see Dave before you go? He's in the kitchen, I bet you two have a lot to talk about..."

Harry gave her a startled look. "He's here?"

"Yes, of course. I did say I was here to see him, didn't I?"

"Right. No, I have... things to do." He bit back a wince. It wasn't exactly the most convincing excuse, but the idea of talking to Malfoy after finding out there was a chance he might fancy Harry seemed far too scary to contemplate. Granted, a very slim chance, but still.

"Of course you do," Syl said, the sarcasm heavy in her voice.

Harry made a valiant attempt to ignore it and got up, gathering his things and walking over to the door almost as fast as Mrs Smith had.

"Yes, very busy. See you Wednesday," he called over his shoulder and let the door fall shut behind him before Syl could reply. He did think he heard her chuckling, but that might have just been his imagination.

That night, he couldn't sleep. The thoughts were racing in his head and he felt like he was missing something important. He had read Malfoy's file more often than he could count by then, and something just didn't add up. If Narcissa was right and Malfoy's kidnappers had the intention of killing him, why would they have let him go? A guilty conscience maybe, or a change of mind? Had they found they didn't have it in themselves to kill and instead of bringing Malfoy back to his family let him loose on the Muggle world, thinking it was a greater punishment? But why give him enough money to start a business if they wanted him to suffer? Harry more he thought about it, the more questions he had. And he still didn't know if Malfoy's memory loss was caused by a curse, a potion or a spell.  
He rolled onto his back and pressed his pillow down onto his face, letting out a frustrated, yet muffled, scream.

"What happened to you, Malfoy?" he mumbled into the night.

Harry withdrew his head from the fireplace, groaning as he got up. Sometimes he wished Wizarding communication wasn't completely reliant on letters, which took several days, or kneeling on the floor for minutes at a time. He could think of better activities to be on his knees for.  
He had just been talking to Ginny to make sure she was okay with everything they had done so far. As expected, she had few objections and was more interested in Harry's love life than anything else. It was odd really, how everyone who was part of a happy couple suddenly fancied themselves matchmakers. He had been relieved when one of her teammates complained about Ginny blocking the Floo for everyone else.

He was wondering what to do with the rest of his evening when the fire flared green again. He didn't bother to get up from his armchair as only a handful of people had unlimited access to his Floo and all of them were close friends.

"Hey, 'Mione." He smiled when she stepped out of the Floo, brushing soot off her clothes.

"Good evening to you too." She rolled her eyes and flopped down in one of the two other armchairs Harry kept in front of the fireplace in case she and Ron were both visiting him.

"Long day?" he asked and she nodded, closing her eyes with a sigh, the books she had carried with her almost sliding off her lap.

"Very. I brought the books you asked for, but I didn't find out anything about Malfoy." She kept her eyes closed for a few more seconds and then straightened up and leaned over to give him the books. He took them, quickly going over the titles.

"Thanks. Ron caught you up then?"

"Yes, but your letter was more informative. He kept going on about an apron?"

Harry grinned. "I had a feeling it might take him a while to get over that mental image."

Personally, he still wasn't over it, but he suspected it probably had more to do with the fact he kept imagining Malfoy in _just_ an apron.

Hermione chuckled. "Indeed. Do you think the books will help?"

"It's worth a try," Harry shrugged. "I have no idea what's wrong with him, but my feeling tells me it really is Malfoy. The only way he could keep up appearances for that long would be drinking a hell of a lot of Polyjuice and I can't remember seeing him drink anything while I was there. Besides, there's just something very... Malfoy-ish about him."

"Malfoy-ish, really?"

Harry grinned a bit ruefully and shrugged. "It's just a feeling."

She nodded and then her face turned that mix of serious and disapproving Harry knew all too well. He groaned even before she opened her mouth.

Hermione went ahead anyway. "Are you sure you don't want to tell the Aurors?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I just... I just feel like it's something I need to get behind first," he tried to explain. He mentally winced at the way that sounded, knowing if Ginny were here, she'd make an inappropriate joke.

Hermione apparently didn't have any such thoughts and only nodded stiffly, pressing her lips together. "Fine, if you insist. But promise to check in every once in a while; something about this doesn't feel quite right."

"I know." Harry frowned. "And don't I always?"

"I guess you do." She smiled and got up. "I need to get home, Ron will be waiting. How is the menu coming along?"

"I'm going to taste some stuff tomorrow and get the final version to you by Thursday." Harry set the book he had been reading the back of aside and got up to kiss her on the cheek. "I'll see you soon."

"Perfect. Good night!" She threw some of his Floo powder into the flames and vanished a few seconds later.

He settled back into his armchair and opened one of the books about amnesia potions. Two and a half chapters in, he realised the author only talked about cures for memory loss, not what could have caused it. He sighed and picked up another book, this one about curses. It would be a long night.

Harry hated to admit it, but when he got up on Wednesday morning and remembered he would see Malfoy that day, he found he was actually looking forward to it.  
It was only when he caught himself checking his reflection in the mirror for the fifth time that morning - which made it four more times than his usual routine - that he realised he might have considered the possibility of Malfoy not being completely disfigured since his talk with Syl.

"Bloody prat," he muttered, trying to tame his hair. It wasn't even Malfoy. Well, it probably was, but he didn't remember Harry. Once he got his memories back, which Harry was determined to accomplish, he'd be his old obnoxious self again and they could go back to hating each other. Harry thought suddenly seemed a lot less soothing than it had a few days ago.

He gave up on his hair, thinking he really should have known better than to try in the first place, and donned his Invisibility Cloak before he Apparated right next to the pastry shop. He grimaced when a passing Muggle looked around confused and stayed very still until the man decided there was nothing interesting to see.

"Right on time!" Syl grinned at him when he entered the shop. She held out a fork with what looked like cheesecake impaled on it. "Try this, it's delicious. Dave just made it."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to ca- Oh. Hello." Malfoy had just walked into the room, wearing his infamous apron and - regretfully- Muggle clothes underneath again. Harry wondered how he could still be surprised by this. It was unlikely Malfoy would wake up one morning and fashion himself a pair of Wizard robes out of his curtains.

"Hello," Harry answered, mouth full of cheesecake. He swallowed. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Yourself?"

"Yeah, me too. Fine, that is."

Syl chuckled. Harry and Malfoy simultaneously turned to glare at her. "Shut up," Malfoy mumbled so quietly Harry almost didn't catch it before he apparently remembered his manners and gestured from Syl to Harry with a polite smile.

"Harry, this is Sylvia. Sylvia, Harry."

"Yes, we've met," Sylvia said, and Harry thought Malfoy looked panicked for a second. He grinned.

"Don't worry, she only told me good things about you."

"The very best." Syl nodded solemnly.

Malfoy groaned. "Whatever she said, it's not true, I swear."

"I sure hope that's not true," Harry said and smiled at Malfoy's curious look. He opened his mouth, presumably to ask what it exactly it was Syl had told Harry and then thought better of it.

"I don't even want to know," he muttered and vanished back into the kitchen. Syl nudged Harry, looking pleased.

"So you've thought about it then?" she whispered. Harry rolled his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied at a normal volume and followed Malfoy into the kitchen.

"That smells amazing," he exclaimed, looking between Syl and the myriad of salads, soups, plates with finger food and main courses displayed on the countertop.

She waved his compliment off, but looked even more pleased than before.

"Wait until you try it," Malfoy said, and Harry tore his eyes away from the food to look at Malfoy. Who was looking more edible than the food. He was leaning against the counter, arms and ankles crossed, and he had got rid of the apron, only wearing black jeans and a white shirt, which should have made him look pale and washed out, but somehow only set off the blue flecks in his eyes.

Harry took a random plate and sat down to try the food, not really tasting what he was eating, because he was busy reconciling his image of Malfoy at Hogwarts with the man he had got to know over the last few days.

"Do you like it?" Syl asked, sounding slightly nervous.

"Wh- Oh, yes, it's delicious," Harry said guiltily, trying to focus on the food. He made an appreciative sound when he realised it really was and then heard Syl laugh. He glanced at her and then back at Malfoy, who was blushing and sneering at Syl. The combination actually looked sort of adorable. He wondered what that was about.

Half an hour later, they were all sitting together at the table. There were empty plates all over the table, and Harry was feeling like he was about to burst. He gave Syl a pained look when she put a skewer with diced cheese on it onto his plate.

"No."

"Come on, Harry. I might think you don't like my cooking otherwise," she tried to convince him.

"No, I can't. Really, I physically can't."

"Let the man be," Malfoy laughed. "He's eaten more in the last half hour than is considered healthy by most qualified Hea- doctors."

Harry's head jerked up. "What were you about to say before you said doctors?"

"What? Nothing. I don't know."

"Try to remember. Please," Harry said urgently, leaning towards Malfoy and wishing he could read his thoughts. He was sure Malfoy had been about to say 'Healer'.

"I don't know!" Malfoy said, looking like he was getting angry. Harry opened his mouth to protest when he felt a small hand laid onto his forearm.

"Is it important, Harry?" Syl asked, looking confused and a little alarmed.

Harry looked into her eyes for a moment and then back to Malfoy and then sighed. "No, I'm sorry, never mind."

Malfoy was cold and monosyllabic for a few more minutes and Harry didn't know what to say to defuse the situation, but Syl tried her best and after a few minutes they were laughing again.

"I'm telling you, he won't let me set foot into the kitchen when he's baking," Syl was saying, causing Malfoy to smirk at her. Harry bit his lip. Why had he never seen how attractive that smirk was when they were in Hogwarts? He remembered in what sort of situations Malfoy usually used to smirk and sighed under his breath. Right. He would do good to remember that this wasn't the real Malfoy.

"What can I say, she's cramping my style." Malfoy shrugged at Harry, his eyes sparkling with humour. "She's good with the cooking, but cakes require real talent."

"Hey!" Syl did something under the table that caused Malfoy to cry out and glare at her. "I'm very talented!"

"Yes, you are," Malfoy gave in, his glare turning into a smile. "We complement each other well," he said to Harry. "If it weren't for her, I'd still be wondering what to do with my life."

"Yeah, I know that feeling." Harry sighed, thinking of how long his own days stretched since he had quit his job, He still thought it had been the right decision, but finding something new was hard.

They kept talking for a while, and Harry was surprised at how much fun he had. When the shop started to get crowded during lunch time, Syl excused herself to serve customers. Harry had the feeling she was trying to give them some time alone, but he could hardly protest in front of Malfoy.

"So when did you decide to become a pastry chef?" Harry asked. "Don't get me wrong, but it's not exactly the most obvious profession to choose, is it?"

"Syl again," Malfoy said, getting up and taking two glasses and a bottle of wine from a cupboard. "Like I said, I was feeling a little... useless, I guess you could say, after school. I met her in a bar and we became friends, did all sorts of things together, and at some point she ordered me to bake a cake." He laughed. "It was my birthday and we were at my flat. She had decided a birthday wasn't a proper birthday without a cake and of course we couldn't just buy it. I tried to tell her I didn't know anything about baking, but she wouldn't listen. So we got the ingredients and a cookbook and I started baking and something about it felt just... right. Cutting up things, mixing ingredients, getting something out of the oven at exactly the right time... It felt... familiar somehow. I can't quite explain it." He looked into the distance as if he was remembering something and then shook himself, giving Harry a small smile. "You must think I'm barmy."

Harry closed his mouth and tried to look less like he had just solved a complicated equation. Suddenly Malfoy's decision to become a pastry chef made a lot more sense.

"No, not at all. Isn't it a bit early for wine?" he added when Malfoy poured him a glass.

"It's five o'clock somewhere." Malfoy shrugged and took a sip of his own glass. "You don't have to drink any if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine," Harry said, glass already raised to his lips. "To your cakes."

Malfoy smiled.

His smile stayed with Harry for the rest of the day: while he ran errands, while he read some more about magical ways to alter and take away memories, and even while he brushed his teeth just before he went to sleep.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he couldn't help it either way.

Harry was restless. He had been pacing up and down his living room for the better part of the  
last hour and it was starting to get on his own nerves, not to mention Ron's and Hermione's.

They were sitting on Harry's sofa, Hermione's feet in Ron's lap and both of them were shooting  
him annoyed looks.

"I just don't _understand_," Harry said, frustrated. "It doesn't make any sense. Why would  
someone take away Malfoy's memories?"

"Maybe he knew something he wasn't supposed to," Hermione suggested helpfully.

"Like what?" Ron said doubtfully. "He wasn't exactly Voldemort's right hand man, was he?"

"No, but he lived with the other Death Eaters for a whole year, he could have  
overheard something."

"But why leave him in some random Muggle town like a sitting duck then?" Harry argued. "Any  
Death Eater would have known Memory Charms can be broken by torture. Wouldn't it have  
been better to kill him in that case?"

Hermione gave him a look.

"Strategically better," Harry amended.

"Yes, probably," she conceded. "Maybe it wasn't a Death Eater. If it was, he'd probably be, well, dead."

Harry nodded grimly. "Exactly. And that only leaves families of the deceased, anyone he ever  
Insulted, and everyone who disagrees with his political motives."

"That narrows it down," Ron said, voice dripping sarcasm.

Harry groaned and threw himself into his armchair. "Why does he always have to be so bloody annoying?"

When he looked up, he saw Ron frowning and Hermione looking like she was suppressing a grin. "What?"

"Nothing," Ron said quickly. Hermione was still looking like she knew something Harry didn't. Which wasn't exactly uncommon for her, now that he thought about it.

"How is he? Apart from the memory loss, I mean?" she asked slowly.

Harry shrugged and tried not to think of Malfoy's smile again or his shoulders or his ar- "Nice."

Hermione rolled her eyes while Ron gave a disbelieving snort. "I see. Well, I still think you should take him to St Mungo's, or at least the Aurors," Hermione continued, ignoring Harry's glare. "I'm sure there's some kind of treatment for what he has."

"Like there was for Lockhart? And for Neville's parents?" Harry burst out. "I'm not going to let them do that to him!" He pushed down all thoughts of Malfoy like that, like an empty shell locked away, only a pale memory of what he used to be and instead tried to concentrate on the image of Malfoy leaning against the counter, the sunlight turning his hair gold as he ate a slice of his own delicious cake. "He's not... he's fine, he just needs to _remember_."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but this time it was Ron who cut her off. He was giving Harry a strange look, which made him feel vaguely guilty. "He's not going to change his mind, 'Mione."

Hermione looked at Harry for a moment, looking like she was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes at his crossed arms and then nodded. "You're too stubborn for your own good sometimes."

"I'm not stubborn," Harry mumbled automatically, but he was already thinking about Malfoy again.

"Sure." Hermione got up, and after a few seconds Ron followed. "See you tomorrow?"

"Good night." Harry nodded.

"Night, mate." Ron stepped into the Floo and disappeared, giving Hermione another chance for a disapproving look.

"Yes, I know, I'll be careful," Harry said.

"That's not what I was going to say," Hermione protested, but she was blushing faintly.

"Night." Harry smiled and after a moment, she smiled back and stepped into the Floo to join Ron.

Harry was fully aware he shouldn't be there.  
He didn't have an appointment and the menu was almost done, so he really did have no excuse. Except for the cakes; those were good enough to warrant another visit if anyone was asking, but if he was honest with himself, he knew they weren't the reason.  
He glanced around the cozy shop, seeing the only other customer was yet again the woman he remembered from his previous visits, and then sat down at a table as far from the register as possible. Technically, he knew it didn't make any difference as the shop was small enough he would be seen everywhere, but it gave him a false sense of security he appreciated at the moment.

He tapped his fingers on the table nervously, watching the door to the kitchen. The thought of just politely knocking and asking if either Syl or Malfoy were there occurred to him, but he wasn't sure if that would be taking too many liberties and he didn't want to seem like he was desperate to see Malfoy again. Because he wasn't. Really.

Which was why it was completely ridiculous his pulse quickened and his hands turned sweaty when the door to the kitchen opened and Malfoy walked out, brushing something or other off on his trousers and looking deep in thought. Harry half hoped he wouldn't look in his direction, because now that he was here, he suddenly had no idea what to say, but of course Malfoy chose that moment to look up. As their eyes met, a slow smile spread across Malfoy's face, and Harry's breath caught in his throat.

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon," Malfoy said when he was in hearing distance.

Harry's mind was completely blank, every carefully constructed excuse about cake forgotten when Malfoy sat down and Harry saw there was a bit of chocolate smudged right across his bottom lip.

"I wanted to see you," he blurted out.

Malfoy looked surprised for a moment, but then he graced Harry with a lazy smirk and leaned a little closer, resting his forearms on the table. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, desperately hoping he wasn't blushing.

There were a few moments of silence. "Any particular reason?" Malfoy asked when Harry didn't elaborate.  
Harry thought furiously and came up blank again. "Not really."

Malfoy's smirk widened. "Interes- Do I have something on my face?"

Harry flinched, caught. He must have been staring at Malfoy's lips a little too obviously. "Just some chocolate..."

Malfoy raised his hand to rub at his cheek. "Is it gone?"

"No. Wait, let me..." Harry reached out and ran his finger over Malfoy's bottom lip. He tried not to linger as he swiped up the chocolate, but then he felt something wet and pointed flick against his finger and when he looked into Malfoy's eyes questioningly, he sucked in a sharp breath. All of Malfoy's attention was focused on him and it felt like the air was burning around them, a thousand tiny fires of possibility.

"Wha-" Harry started to ask, but then he felt cool fingers wrap around his wrist and suddenly he was jerked towards Malfoy.

"I wanted to see you again too," Malfoy mumbled against his lips and then he kissed him.

Kissing Malfoy was nothing like he had expected. Where his fingers were as cold as if he had just been holding them in ice water, his lips were hot and insistent on Harry's. Harry parted his own lips with a moan and reached both his hands into Malfoy's hair, pulling him closer and kissing him back greedily. Malfoy tasted like chocolate and cinnamon and something bittersweet he couldn't name, and he kissed like he talked, like he expected the rest of the world to stop and pay attention until he was finished delivering his point because it was just that good. Harry was inclined to agree.

"No!" someone exclaimed, and Harry pulled back, disappointment running strong until he realised Malfoy was looking as dazed as he was and the voice had been female. He frowned and looked over Malfoy's shoulder at the only other person in the room.  
Mrs Smith was staring at them in shock. Her book was lying on the table as if he had just dropped it, and her mouth was opening and closing silently. Harry opened his mouth to tell her to fuck off, assuming she was just another homophobe, when she spoke again.

"You can't. It's not right."

"And who the hell are you to decide that?" Malfoy, who had finally followed Harry's gaze and turned around, asked sharply. "If you've got a problem with two men kissing, you can leave this establishment and stay the fuck away."

For a moment Harry thought he saw hurt flash in the her eyes, but then she set her jaw and got up silently, leaving her book behind in her hurry to get out. Harry jumped up, sparing Malfoy, who was still glaring at the spot the woman had just vacated, a quick look before he got the book and ran after her.

He almost caught up with her when she was halfway across the momentarily deserted town square, but then she turned on the spot and Disapparated, just as her features changed with the telltale signs of not enough Polyjuice Potion.  
Harry stopped in his tracks.  
It wasn't only the fact that she was a witch that had him dumbstruck, but also the certainty of knowing who she was.

"Fuck," he swore.

The way back to the shop wasn't a long one, but it was long enough for Harry to remember why he didn't want to go in. He and Malfoy had kissed. _Kissed_. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Only that Malfoy wasn't quite himself right now and he didn't hate Harry. At least not if he didn't go around randomly kissing people he hated. Did he? Harry groaned and shook his head at his own thoughts. Of course he didn't. Which was precisely why Harry didn't want to go in. He knew what he had to do know, but if he did, Malfoy would go back to hating him. He sighed and pushed open the door.

Malfoy was standing just off to where they had been sitting, facing him with a neutral expression.

"Er...hi." Harry rubbed his neck.

"Hi."

"Are you... Is everything alright?" Harry frowned. Malfoy was still looking at him like he was a normal customer, not like they had just shared the best kiss of Harry's life. Oh god... maybe that was it, maybe Harry was a bad kisser and Malfoy was trying to let him down easy.

"I don't know, Potter, you tell me," Malfoy said, the 'Potter' rolling off his tongue as if it came more natural to him than Harry's first name.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry frowned.

Malfoy looked at him for a long moment and then his carefully constructed mask gave way to anger, his eyes blazing with suppressed emotion as his hands balled to fists at his side. "If you didn't like kissing me you could have just said. There was no need to run off!"

"What? No, that's not-"

"Whatever," Malfoy interrupted him and turned around, leaving Harry behind to stride into the kitchen. Harry made a frustrated sound and followed him.

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, I _did_ like kissing you."

Malfoy whirled around. "Stop calling me that! My name is David! If you can't stop thinking about this other bloke, just _fuck off_."

Harry winced. "I'm sorry."

Malfoy shrugged and turned around to fiddle with something on the counter, his shoulders tense. "Just go."

Harry took a deep breath and stepped closer, raising his hand to put it on Malfoy's shoulder and dropping it again before he could actually touch him. "No. What I meant is, I'm sorry, but it _is_ you. There is no other bloke. I can't explain right now, but you need to trust me. Please... David."

Harry thought he could hear Malfoy clench his teeth, but then he was facing Harry again and the mask was back in place. "Why would I trust you? I hardly even know you."

Harry sighed. No matter if Malfoy had his memories or not, that much was true. "I know, but I'm going to have to ask you to come with me anyway. I promise I intend you no harm and if you never want to see me again afterwards that's fine, but _please_ trust me on this."

Malfoy gave him a searching look. "Why wouldn't I want to see you again? Where do you want to take me?"

"It's... complicated." Harry grimaced. There was nothing he had hated more than someone telling him things were too complicated for him to understand when he was younger, so he tried again. "You might remember why you don't like me once you... What I mean is, the circumstances might be different in a few hours, or days. I need to take you someplace safe. My house... Well, not really, I don't live there, but it's close enough."

"You do know you're not making any sense, don't you?" Malfoy drawled, crossing his arms. "Someplace safe? That's a new one. At least your pick-up lines are creative, but I assure you I'm quite safe _here_."

Harry rolled his eyes at the comment about pick-up lines and started shaking his head before Malfoy was even finished. "No, you're not. There are things you don't know and... and I think you might be in danger." He realised he was tapping his foot and stopped. There wasn't much time, if he couldn't convince Malfoy like this, he would have to _Stupefy_ him, but he would really rather not.

"Danger?" Malfoy looked incredulous. "Please tell me you're not working for the police. Why would _I_ be in danger?"

"Something like that..." Harry mumbled, leaving the other part of Malfoy's question unanswered. He reached up, cupping Malfoy's cheek with his hand as he looked into his eyes, trying to tell him with his eyes what he couldn't with his words. "Please just trust me. I swear you're not going to regret it, but we don't have much more time. We need to go."

Malfoy started when Harry's fingers slid over his soft skin, but after a few seconds he leaned into the touch. The moment their eyes met again something seemed to change and Malfoy nodded. "Yes... alright. But if this is just a ploy to get into my pants, I'm not putting out."

Harry laughed, relieved, and grasped Malfoy's arm. "Fair enough. Hold on tight, this is going to be a bit unpleasant."

"Ow! What the- What did you just _do?_" Malfoy exclaimed. "Where are we?"

They were standing in the dusty kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Harry pulled a face as he looked around. He hadn't been here in ages and the place showed it.

"Sorry, there was no time to take the long way. It's my place.. .sort of. I inherited it. I haven't had reason to come here in years, but it's safe and that's all that matters."

"The long way? You mean the _normal_ one? What was that then, teleporting?" Malfoy suddenly backed away. "You're not an alien, are you?"

Harry stared at Malfoy. "_What?_"

"It's possible," Malfoy defended himself. "I've been watching this show..." He suddenly looked sheepish. "And you've got to admit what you just did wasn't normal."

Harry rolled his eyes. So this happened when one put a Pureblood and a television in the same room. "I'm not an alien. I'm a wizard."

"Yes, because _that_ makes perfect sense," Malfoy deadpanned.

He still didn't look very convinced and Harry thought he could hear him mumble 'Nutter.' under his breath. He grimaced. It did sound a little crazy. He opened his mouth to explain, how he wasn't sure yet, but Malfoy spoke first.

"If you're a wizard, you must have a _wand_," he smirked, slowly coming closer.

"Er..."

"No? No wand?" Malfoy shook his head with fake disappointment. "I'm afraid I can't believe you in that case."

"Oh, shut up."

Malfoy laughed. "It's either that or panic because I just let a complete stranger and obvious lunatic take me god knows where. Which would you prefer?"

"Are those the only two options?" Harry asked, trying not to sound exasperated.

"No, of course not." Malfoy shook his head. "There's also Run or Fight - I'm not sure which I would choose yet - and shagging, of course."

"There's no need to- Wait, what?" Harry looked at Malfoy, who was smirking. Again. Harry got the distinct impression it was part of his standard repertoire, never mind the missing memories.

"I'm in a life or death situation, Potter, of course sex is an option."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll keep it in mind." And he would. Uncomfortably so. Bloody Malfoy. Suddenly something occurred to him and he frowned. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Calling you what?"

"Potter. I thought... You were calling me Harry before."

"I... I'm not sure," Malfoy said, and for a moment it seemed like he was very distant. "I didn't mean to. It just came more naturally at the time."

"I see." If Malfoy was starting to remember and he already thought it was more natural to call Harry by his last name, then how long would it take until he remembered he also hated him? Harry quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He couldn't allow himself to think of the consequences of Malfoy getting his memories back or he might not do everything he could to help him.

"I need to leave," he said instead.

"What?" Malfoy exclaimed, his eyebrows drawn together. "You can't just take me to some random, _dirty_ place and then leave me here!"

"I'm really sorry..." Harry trailed off when he saw Malfoy's face.

"If you're leaving, I'm leaving," he was saying, already moving in the direction of the door. Harry hurried to follow, stopping him by putting a hand on his shoulder and turning him back around.

"No. I can't take you, I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I hope you know that nothing you say makes any sense, Potter," Malfoy said angrily. "You still haven't told me why I'm in danger in the first place or who you really are or what you're planning to do with me. And don't give me the 'I'm a wizard' line again."

Potter again. Harry sighed. "Look, I know it's hard to believe-"

"Hard to believe?" Malfoy interrupted. "It's bloody insane! _You're_ insane."

Harry felt a muscle in his jaw twitch as he grit his teeth. Before he knew it, he had slammed Malfoy against the wall, his hands fisted in his too-Muggle clothes as he leaned towards him.

"Where did you go to school?"

"What?" Malfoy had clearly expected something else. "I went to boarding school, why?"

"Yes, but how was it called? Did you like it? What was the name of your favourite teacher?"

"I... It was called... I... I don't know." Malfoy said, looking surprised by his own answer. "Why don't I know?"

"Who were your friends? Who were your enemies? Were you in love with someone? Who was your first kiss?" Harry went on, talking urgently as he kept Malfoy pinned to the wall. "Who got on your nerves so much you almost killed him?"

"I don't kn-" Malfoy started again and then his whole face changed and he looked at Harry with newfound recognition in his eyes. _"You."_

Harry laughed humourlessly. "Yes. Which one?"

"I don't _know_," Malfoy said unhappily. "Why don't I know?"

"Because someone took away your memories and gave you new ones. Only the old ones seem to be coming back now and I can't risk taking you with me like this," Harry said, omitting the fact Malfoy would be a liability and that he wouldn't have taken him with him where he was going regardless of whether or not his memories were coming back.

"Someone took away my memories? You mean this... this isn't really me?"

Harry schooled his features into a noncommittal expression and avoided Malfoy's eyes. "I'm sure it's you on some level."

"Fucking liar," Malfoy spat. "How am I really? And who did this to me?"

"I'm not sure," Harry lied. "But I promise I'll have more answers when I come back."

Malfoy crossed his arms and looked at him for a long minute. Harry shifted his weight from one foot to another, hoping he wouldn't call him out on it.

"Fine," Malfoy said eventually. "But if you don't come back I'm going to personally hunt you down and kill you."

"That sounds more like the old you," Harry smiled, relieved, and then added more earnestly "Thank you."

Malfoy nodded stiffly. "Whatever."

Harry noticed they were still standing so close he could have counted Malfoy's eyelashes if he so desired and took a step back. For a moment he thought Malfoy looked disappointed, but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

"I'll just be going then," he said, but this time it was Malfoy holding him back.

"In a minute... You knew me, didn't you? When we were in school?"

Harry froze. "I'm not so sure about that anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy frowned.

Harry shrugged. "Never mind. I need to go, I've wasted too much time already. Don't touch anything that looks dangerous. Actually, don't touch anything at all. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"No, wait!" Malfoy called, but Harry had already thrown the Floo powder into the fireplace and called out his destination.

His first instinct had been to go alone, but apparently the constant lectures in Auror training not to walk into a dangerous situation without a partner had left an impression after all, because in the end he had Floo'd to the Ministry to get Ron before he did anything.  
Fortunately he had been in when Harry arrived, pretending to work on his ever-growing stack of paperwork and more than happy to follow him after a brief explanation.

"And you're completely sure?" Ron asked for what felt like the millionth time that day. "I'll get into serious trouble if you turn out to be wrong. I could lose my badge!"

"And whatever would you do without your badge, Percy?" Harry grinned. "Relax, I'm sure. But if you don't want to risk it, you don't have to come, I'd understand," he added more seriously. "Really."

"Of course I'll come," Ron grumbled. "How do we get in?"

Harry cast a charm to reveal the wards at the edge of the vast estate, groaning when an intricate web of differently coloured protective spells appeared, stretching on as far as he could see with no visible weak spot.

"Like I thought," he said, moving closer to inspect a knot of violet and silver glowing lines. "Those aren't exactly standard wards. And of course there's more than one curse woven into this. Do you think we can get past them?"

"Sure," Ron said, stepping up next to him. "If we had two weeks. Otherwise... no, I wouldn't risk it."

"That's what I thought," Harry sighed and straightened up. "I guess we'll have to find another way."

"Still don't want to send a Patronus for reinforcements?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to make this an official case. And besides, I don't think we'll need them." He smiled. "Here, take this."

Ron caught the Invisibility Cloak with ease, but gave Harry a doubtful look. "Aren't we a bit big for that by now?"

"It's only for you." Harry pocketed his wand and ignored Ron's protests. "Put it on and only reveal yourself if you have to."

"What about you?" Ron asked as he wrapped the cloak around himself and his body seemed to vanish into thin air.

"I'll just knock politely," Harry grinned and fired a spell at the gate he was sure would attract enough attention if anyone was home.

A familiar elf appeared on the other side of the gate. It looked harried, and its ears were flapping more than usual.

"What is Mister Harry Potter wanting? The mistress is busy."

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask to see her anyway," Harry said politely. "It's very important."

"No, no, no, no!" The elf shook his head with every negation. "You can't."

Harry tried not to roll his eyes. "Why don't you just let me in, and I'll wait until she is less busy?"

The elf wrung his hands and shook his head again. "I can't!"

"Look, did she specifically tell you not to let me in?" Harry crouched down so he could look into the elf's eyes, carefully keeping his balance.

"N-No."

"Then there's no need to keep me out, is there? Frankly, it's a little rude." Harry straightened and watched as the elf's eyes turned impossibly wider at the suggestion of incivility. It hesitated for a moment, and then the gates swung open long enough to allow Harry (and an invisible Ron) to pass through.

"Thank you." Harry smiled, but the elf was nowhere in sight. It was probably better that way; he just hoped it hadn't gone off to tell Mrs Malfoy they were here. He tried to remember if house elves could see through invisibility cloaks.

"Let's go," he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, listening for Ron's footsteps on the gravel path as they made their way towards the Manor.

"You're insane," Ron said, announcing his presence, and Harry chuckled.

"You're actually not the first person to tell me that today."

"And that doesn't make you pause?"

"Not really," Harry said cheerfully. "Luna told me once I'm just as sane as she is, so how could I worry?"

Ron laughed. "Fair enough. Which way?"

They were standing in the grand entrance hall, which was just as deserted as Harry remembered it.

"I'm not sure," he said quietly.

"Ugh, I hate being back here," Ron whispered back.

Harry nodded and moved towards the stairs, gesturing for Ron to follow. He had no idea how to play this, but he figured spontaneity had always worked for him so far and it wasn't like he was defenseless. The corridor was dark, but one of the doors was ajar. Quiet voices drifted outside, and Harry thought one of them must be Mrs Malfoy's. He drew his wand and made sure Ron was still next to him before he inched closer, peeking inside.

Narcissa and the Gardener were standing in the middle of the room, facing each other as they argued quietly.

"We can't leave him here, he's going to remember- " Narcissa was saying when the Gardener interrupted her.

"But if Potter saw you-"

"I told you he didn't!" Narcissa said. She didn't raise her voice, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as the ice crept into her tone. "I _Disapparated_ before the Polyjuice wore off. If you think I would leave my son alone amongst Muggles while I escape, you don't know me as well as you should."

"We're not going to be of any help to him if we get caught. Your questionable decision to make him live with the mudbloods aside, he seems to be fine for now. I think it would be best for him-"

"Excuse me, Lucius, but you have lost your right to decide what is best for him when you sold his childhood - and almost his life - to the Dark Lord."

There were a few seconds of silence and then several things happened at once: the Gardener - Lucius - drew his wand and pointed it at Narcissa, a furious expression on his face; the corridor lit up as Ron cast a Patronus, which promptly disappeared again after he mumbled something; and Harry pushed the door open the rest of the way.

"Potter," Narcissa said as if she had been expecting him for tea and he was a little late, only her eyes flickering between him and Lucius' wand indicating something was wrong.

"Narcissa," Harry answered just as politely, but his thoughts were racing. _The Gardener is Lucius!?_ "Lucius." He nodded.

"Harry Potter," Lucius snarled. "Always putting his nose into things that aren't his business."

Harry gave him a bright smile. "Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone by coming up with something new. And you, still have that ugly tattoo on your arm?"

He felt a pang of guilt when he thought of the Dark Mark like he had seen it on skin just as pale as Lucius' but infinitely more beautiful as Malfoy had pushed up his sleeves just before he rolled out some cookie dough. It hadn't been so very ugly then. He gripped his wand more tightly and told himself to concentrate on the present.

Lucius answered his question with a _Stupefy_, but Harry reacted fast enough to cast a shield charm just before it hit him.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said. "Where do you get your Polyjuice Potion from?"

"None of your concern," Lucius replied before he cast again. Harry wasn't sure what it was, but it sure as hell wasn't a mere _Stupefy_ this time, and his shield barely held up against the powerful curse.

"Stop it." Lucius froze when Narcissa laid a delicate hand on his arm. "There is no need."

Harry used the time to non-verbally reinforce his defenses and cast an Anti-Apparition charm, trying not to make sure Ron was still there if he needed him. He was surprised he hadn't already tried to arrest Lucius, it was his case after all, but he probably had his reasons.

"There is every need," Lucius said, throwing Harry a disgusted look.

Harry stayed silent. He was just as interested in Narcissa's answer as in how Lucius had managed to hide himself from the Aurors for all those months. He hadn't suspected her until she had given herself away, and he still couldn't guess at her motivations for _Obliviating_ Malfoy. What confused him most of all was that it had sounded like she still cared for him very much during her spat with Lucius.

"No, there is not. Harry here won't tell anyone, will you, Harry?" Narcissa gave him a cold smile.

"And what led you to that conviction?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised.

"You care too much about Draco. You wouldn't want his parents to end up in Azkaban, would you?"

Harry snorted. "Trust me, I have no problem whatsoever with putting everyone who is trying to harm him into Azkaban. Even you."

He fleetingly wondered when he had started trying to keep harm _away_ from Malfoy rather than inflicting it on him, but there was no time to give it more thought as Narcissa took a step towards him.

"Ah, but see, this seems to be a terrible misunderstanding. I never meant Draco any harm; you of all people should know that."

Harry raised his wand a little higher when she came closer, but otherwise kept his stance relaxed. Considering their past, he was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt. Lucius was still glaring at him, but he didn't interrupt his wife.

"Alright, give me your wand and I'll let you explain."

She hesitated for a moment, clearly not wanting to let go of her only defense, but then she slowly reached out and handed it to him. Harry noticed her eyes flickering to Lucius again and bit back a smile. She thought Harry was outnumbered.

"It was supposed to be a temporary solution," she started, and Harry nodded for her to go on. "I really did only intend his best. He was not safe here after the trials and I had no trustworthy family left. The parole prevented us from leaving the country, but everyone shunned us here."

"Wait, what do you mean he wasn't safe?" Harry interrupted her.

Narcissa sighed and then gave him a reproachful look. Harry immediately felt guilty. "Did it ever occur to you incarceration was not all he had to fear at the time, Mr Potter?"

"Yes, of course. I understand Riddle's remaining followers turned on each other after his death, and obviously the Death Eater's victims weren't too happy with them..."

"It wasn't only the victims," Narcissa said, and for the first time she sounded bitter. "It was everyone. Those who were not courageous enough to fight thought it fit to show their allegiance to your cause by getting rid of whomever they considered your enemies after the battle was already fought and won."

Harry grimaced. He hated it when people talked about the war as something that had been fought in his stead. He had only played the part that had been expected of him and he had never wanted anyone to die for him.

"I'm sure it wasn't easy, but you have some very impressive wards. It can't have been that dangerous."

"You don't know what it was like!" Narcissa said and pressed her lips together. "There were death threats every day and I was alone here with Draco. Wards are never infallible- that reminds me, how did _you_ get in?"

"Um... I convinced the house elf?" Harry rubbed his neck, feeling sheepish.

Narcissa gave him a pointed look. Harry made a mental note to remember to check up on the house elf's well-being. "I don't think just anyone could have done that," he said hesitantly. "I seem to have a certain... standing with the house elves and I've been here before."

Lucius snorted angrily. Harry half-expected another hex when he saw his expression, but it still didn't come.

"Be that as it may, you see my point," Narcissa said, voice calm again.

Harry reluctantly inclined his head.

"Still, I did not act until Theodore Nott was found dead," Narcissa continued. Harry paled a little as he remembered the headline. It had been a particurlarly messy death and he began to understand why Narcissa had thought it might be a good idea to get Malfoy out of the public's eye.

"You could have called the Aurors! They would have offered you protection," he argued anyway. "You didn't have to take away his memories!"

"The world is not as black and white as you make it out to be," Narcissa said. She sat down and crossed her legs. Harry considered joining her, but he didn't feel very at ease with Lucius still pointing his wand at him. "I'm sure there would have been a half-hearted effort to save our lifes, but no one really cares about _keeping_ us alive. I certainly was not going to bet Draco's life on it."

"So you _Obliviated_ him and faked a nervous breakdown," Harry said with the utmost distaste. It was hard to be angry at Narcissa when she was being so reasonable, but it was harder still to forget Malfoy's face as he asked Harry why he couldn't remember years of his life or the empty look when Harry called him by his real name.

"I would like to maintain that was all an act, but sadly, no. I had just lost both my husband and my son, in a manner of speaking, and it was a bad time for someone to verbally attack me." Narcissa smiled humourlessly and Harry almost started feeling guilty again.

"I see," he said instead.  
"Well, Mr Potter, what do you say? Are you still planning to arrest me?"

"I couldn't have arrested you in the first place," Harry said, distracted by the question of what to do now. "Besides, if what you just told me is right, I don't think anyone can if Draco doesn't press charges and I doubt he will. I'm more interested in reversing the _Obliviate_ you put him under. He's already starting to remember things, but I have no idea what consequences it might have if someone other than you tried to restore them."

"None," Narcissa lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. "I wouldn't have done anything to cause damage to his mind. What I used was a modified Obliviation Charm. Like I said, it was only meant to be temporary, so the effects should wear off on their own if the spell is not repeated, but I can also just reverse it with a simple sentence."

"What, like with a hypnosis?" Harry moved to sit opposite her, keeping an eye on Lucius, and gave her back her wand. He had read about the concept, but hadn't paid much attention at the time. It wouldn't have been of any use to him without already knowing the word, or sentence in Malfoy's case.

"It is a little more complex than that, but yes, I suppose," Narcissa allowed.

"Could you do it if I brought you to him?" Harry asked slowly, wondering if the suggestion was really a good idea.

"I could."

"No!" Lucius suddenly intervened and Harry immediately jumped up and raised his wand again. "I won't allow it."

"You have no say in this; you're going back to Azkaban anyway," Harry spat.

"I don't think so." Lucius laughed. "You stand no chance against us and you just said you can't arrest anyone."

Harry noticed Narcissa carefully didn't look at her husband. He had the feeling she didn't particularly want to fight Harry and he didn't think it was because she was afraid of him.

"No, but I can," Ron said as he walked into the room, Harry's Invisibilty Cloak balled into a bundle in the hand not holding his wand.

Lucius stared at him for a split second and then he was already firing curses at him. Ron dodged the better part; Harry deflected the rest and gave back as good as he got. With Harry shielding him, he had Lucius down and bound in two minutes flat.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to be speak to an attorney and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense. Do you understand?"

Lucius and Narcissa weren't the only ones looking at Ron in utter confusion.

"What the fuck, Ron?" Harry asked, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Narcissa. "You don't have to read them their Muggle rights."

"I know." Ron grinned. "I just always wanted to say that."

Harry rolled his eyes. Purebloods and televisions.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy, but I'm going to have to take you with me too," Ron said.

Narcissa nodded and got up, but Harry frowned at him. "Why?"

"Aiding and abetting. She was hiding someone she knew should be in prison, and we don't know she didn't help him escape."

"Did you?" Harry wanted to know.

"No," Narcissa said.

"You don't expect me to trust her word?" Ron asked Harry incredulously.

Harry hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. "No, of course not. Can you let her reverse the spell on Malfoy first though?"

Ron looked at Lucius, who was looking at his wife as if she had betrayed him - Harry supposed she had; she hadn't lifted a finger to rescue him, but knowing her, there could have been all sorts of reasons for that - and then back to Harry, and then he sighed. "Fine, I have enough on my hands with him anyway, but take her in as soon as possible and don't let her escape."

"Please, who do you take me for?" Harry smiled. He didn't take away Narcissa's wand. He decided she was safe enough without magic handcuffs.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I mean it, Harry."

"Me, too."

"Yeah, whatever," Ron said, unconvinced, and waited for Harry to lift the Anti-Apparition spell before he _Disapparated_ with Lucius.

"Where is Draco?" Narcissa asked as soon as they were alone.

"Grimmauld Place," Harry answered and held out his arm. "No one can _Apparate_ in without me," he said by way of an explanation.

"Of course." She took his arm and they both disappeared.

Malfoy was still in the kitchen. He and his mother were standing at opposite ends of the kitchen table while Harry was making tea and doing his very best to ignore the uncomfortable silence. They hadn't reversed the spell yet and Malfoy had some trouble believing he was really facing his mother. Harry wasn't sure what Narcissa's problem was, but he suspected it was either seeing her ancestral home buried in dust and dirt or worry about Malfoy's reaction once he understood what Narcissa had done to him.

"So this was your idea?" Malfoy asked eventually.

Narcissa nodded silently.

"And you did it to protect me." It was a statement rather than a question, but it still managed to sound doubtful.

She nodded again. "Yes."

"And once you say this sentence I will have my old memories back? All of them?"

"Every single one."

Malfoy bit his lip. Harry was trying not to be too obvious about watching him, but the tea didn't really need his help steeping and there was nothing else he could pretend to be focused on.

"And... this... how I am now... it'll all be gone."

"Not all of it," Narcissa said, watching Malfoy carefully. "I didn't change your personality - the fundamentals will still be the same."

"Still... I'm going to be different," Malfoy said unhappily.

"I'm sorry," Narcissa said, but Malfoy was looking at Harry.

"Do you want me to turn back into my other self?"

"What?" Harry started, completely unprepared for the question. "I... yes, I guess. I mean... I don't know. Yes."

The last was added purely for Malfoy's benefit. He wasn't sure if he really wanted him to turn back, but he knew he had to. This wasn't Malfoy and he would never feel comfortable being with him with the knowledge he actually hated Harry at the back of his mind. He kept his face carefully blank as he thought about it, not wanting Malfoy to see how much he cared. He really hoped the Malfoy he had got to know over the past few weeks was a part of the real Malfoy because if he was, there was a chance he might still like Harry. Perhaps he just usually kept him hidden better.

"You don't sound sure." Malfoy was suddenly standing far too close and Harry swallowed.

"But I am."

"Tell me you don't want me to change... Tell me to stay this way and I will," Malfoy said, pressing Harry against the counter. Harry wondered if he would really do it and for a moment he was tempted to say the words, but then he shook his head.

"I can't. You just want someone to make the choice for you."

Malfoy pulled back, disappointed.

"No, wait." Harry put his hands on Malfoy's hips to pull him closer again. Malfoy was looking at him with wide eyes; he probably thought Harry had changed his mind. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Harry was already kissing him. He pressed their lips together for a few desperate seconds, letting himself feel everything he had tried to hide from Malfoy and then he pulled back and let go of him.

"Remember this if you find yourself wondering if I'm still interested," he said tightly, and after a few moments, Malfoy nodded.

Narcissa was tactfully looking the other way, but when Malfoy told her he was ready, she focused back on him.  
Harry thought the reversal of the spell was very anticlimactic after that. Narcissa cupped Malfoy's face with her hands and mumbled something in Latin Harry didn't understand and then it was already over. Malfoy blinked a few times as Narcissa stepped back and then his whole posture changed and his expression cleared.

"Thank you," he said to Harry, but his voice was cold and he didn't sound very grateful.

"You're welcome," Harry replied, keeping the inflection in his voice to a minimum.

Malfoy completly ignored his mother as he threw some Floo powder into the fire and vanished. Harry closed his eyes for a moment.

"I need to follow him," Narcissa said.

Harry nodded. "Go."

"You're not going to argue?" She sounded mildly suprised.

"I think the Ministry will survive without your statement another day. Just promise me to stay at Malfoy Manor," Harry said, not feeling much like taking her to the Ministry anyway. If the Aurors wanted her, they were going to have to catch her themselves. He felt vaguely guilty towards Ron, but he had just brought in Lucius Malfoy - he'd be fine.

"Thank you, Harry." Harry opened his eyes when he felt her envelop him in a gentle hug. He smiled.

"You're welcome."

It was what he had said to Malfoy just a few minutes earlier, but this time he meant it. She gave him an uncharacteristically warm smile and then followed Malfoy. Harry had heard him call out 'Malfoy Manor' just before he vanished, so he figured it wouldn't take her long to find him.

"Stop moping."

"I'm not moping," Harry groaned, annoyed, and then he realised who was talking to him and made an actual effort to sound enthusiastic. "Ginny! Congratulations!"

Ginny laughed and hugged him tightly, paying no attention to her wedding dress getting squished between them.

"That's better. It's my wedding, Harry. You can't stand around, looking like someone just stole your broom; people will think you're jealous."

"Of what?" Harry said distractedly and then yelped when Ginny pinched him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Of _me_, Harry." She rolled her eyes, the gesture oddly reminiscent of her mother, who was talking animatedly to Rolf Scamander next to the bowle.

"Oh. Sorry." He tried to look apologetic, but Ginny only laughed again.

"Nice try. Now tell me what's wrong, I don't have all night to fix it. In fact, I have rather important plans tonight if you care to remember..." Harry grimaced and tried very hard not to. "So, are you still mooning over Malfoy?"

"No," Harry said testily.

"So that's a yes."

Harry didn't reply, because it was her wedding day and he didn't want to fight with her.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "Have you even tried talking to him?"

"I sent an owl."

"And what did it say?"

"It said 'Can we talk?'" Harry crossed his arms and wished Ginny would find someone else to try to match up. A more hopeful case.

"Of course it did." Harry was looking straight ahead, but he could still hear her roll her eyes at him. He grit his teeth.

"Why don't you get me some cake from the kitchen?" Ginny suggested and Harry turned to look at her. He narrowed his eyes.

"There's cake here. You cut it together with Zabini, remember? Or were you so distracted by licking it off his fingers you forgot about that part?"

"There's _special_ cake in the kitchen," Ginny said mysteriously, cheerfully ignoring his dig. "And I want it."

"Then go and get it," Harry said, still looking at her suspiciously.

"Harry! I'm the _bride_. I can't go into the _kitchens_."

"_Fine_," Harry grumbled. She gave him a blinding smile, but he only shook his head. He had a sneaking suspicion about what was waiting for him in the kitchen and he wasn't sure he was ready for it.

He looked around for the door to the kitchen and followed a waiter inside once he had made it out. Like he had suspected, Malfoy was there. And even worse, but still not unexpected, he was looking gorgeous, and the moment Harry saw him, he couldn't pretend like he hadn't been thinking about him night and day for the past month.

"I was hoping I'd see you here," Malfoy said when he spotted him. Harry tried to read his expression, but like most of the time, it was nigh impossible.

"You were?"

"Yes, I thought... I thought maybe we could talk," Malfoy said and Harry thought he could hear a slight tremor in his voice.

"Funny, didn't seem that way when you ignored my owl." Harry leaned back against the counter, glaring at a random waitress, who took her tray and hurried to leave the room.

"Oh, shut it, Potter, it's not like you kept trying either." Malfoy sneered. Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then turned to leave without another word.

"No, wait!" Malfoy called, his hand wrapping around Harry's wrist before he even finished speaking. "I wanted to reply, but I didn't know what to say and then I had already waited too long and... I'm sorry."

Harry took another deep breath, for different reasons this time. It felt like Malfoy's fingers were burning his skin, but they were still as cold as he remembered them. He absentmindedly wondered if Malfoy had some kind of circulatory disorder.

"Alright. So you're still... You still want to..." Harry trailed off. He could feel Malfoy's breath against the back of his neck and somehow it seemed more important to Harry's brain than whatever he had meant to say.

Malfoy was silent for a moment and then... "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Yes," Malfoy repeated, louder the second time, but it almost didn't matter anymore, because he was pressing his body against Harry's from behind and his lips were ghosting over Harry's neck and up to his ear. "Yes, git. I couldn't stop thinking about you. And then I remembered what you said just before I got my memories back..."

Harry smiled and turned around in Malfoy's arms. "I meant it."  
"I know, otherwise I wouldn't be here." Malfoy was looking at him so intently, Harry had to look away. Malfoy took Harry's chin between his thumb and his index finger and forced him to meet his eyes again.

"Don't," he whispered and then they were kissing and it was every bit as good as Harry remembered.

"So you're still baking?" Harry asked when they finally broke apart.

"Sort of." Malfoy shrugged. "I tried to quit the day after I remembered, but Sylvia wouldn't let me." He smiled at the memory. "I was a bit of a prat about it, to be honest."

"Really? You? I can't imagine..."

Malfoy laughed. "Shut up. Anyway, she insisted I stay, and I kept insisting I couldn't, and finally I just told her everything."

"You told her you're a wizard?" Harry frowned. "Just like that? And she believed it?"

"With sufficient proof." Malfoy slid his hands down Harry's back and Harry got the feeling he was trying to suppress a smirk.

"You were showing off, weren't you?"

The smirk he had been trying to hide spread over Malfoy's face. "What a terrible thing to accuse me of. I would never."

Harry laughed and kissed him. "You're incorrigible."

"Perhaps," Malfoy allowed, not seeming to think it was a bad thing to be. "What about you? What have you been up to?"

"Er... Actually... Professor McGonagall offered me a teaching position. I haven't told her my final decision yet, but I think I might take it, at least for a few years."

"Teaching what? No, don't tell me... Potions?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course. She coudn't think of anyone better suited for teaching _Potions_."

Malfoy grinned. "I knew it. Do I get a reward kiss for guessing right?"

"You'll get much more than a kiss if you're not careful." Harry walked Malfoy back until he could push him up against the wall and flicked his hand to lock the door. The guests would just have to make do with the food already in the room for a few minutes.

"You can do wandless magic?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow and Harry noticed he was breathing a little faster than before.

"Only small things... so far." He smiled.

"Who's showing off now?" Malfoy chuckled, but he kissed him again, and Harry made his robes disappear. He was suddenly highly motivated to learn not to have to use his wand at all anymore.

Malfoy gasped against his mouth, and Harry ran his tongue over his bottom lip, pushing his hands underneath Malfoy's shirt and sliding his thigh between two of Malfoy's.

"You're wearing Muggle clothes underneath," he said.

"Too weird?" Malfoy didn't sound very worried, but then Harry thought he would be doing something wrong if Malfoy had the brain capacity left to worry about clothes.

"No, I like it. It's... unexpected."

Malfoy pulled back for a moment to look at Harry, breathless, and then he chuckled again. "You _like_ like it, don't you?"

Harry tried to protest, but Malfoy was sliding his lips over Harry's neck and he couldn't find the right words, so he moaned instead.

Malfoy laughed. "What, do you have some weird fetish for Muggle clothes I should know about?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "It's just you in them... I don't know."

"I see." Malfoy was looking disgustingly smug, so Harry shut him up by kissing him some more.

**Epilogue**

"Try this one," Draco insisted. "You can't leave without trying this one."

"If I try that one, I'm going to _roll_ out of here," Harry groaned. "Seriously, if you keep feeding me like this, I'll look like Slughorn soon."

"Please, you're running laps every morning, you'll be fine," Draco said impatiently.

"Yes, and have you thought about _why_ I'm running laps every morning?"

"Fine, don't try it," Draco snapped and put down the fork he had been offering Harry. "It's not like I'm going to lose customers if I sell bad cake or anything..."

Harry rolled his eyes and ate the cake. Despite how much he had already eaten, the explosion of taste in his mouth made him moan in ecstasy. "Oh my god, this is delicious!"

"I know, right?" Draco said excitedly.

Harry gave him a look. "If you already knew it was good, why did I have to try it?"

"Because it's good." Draco smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes again. "Did I tell you you're a prat yet today?"

"Almost as often as you told me you loved me."

"I didn't tell you I love you." Harry frowned.

Draco gave him a pointed look.

"Oh," Harry said sheepishly. "I love you."

"And now with a little more feeling," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"I love you," Harry said again, smiling. "You know I love you, prat."

"That's three I love yous and two prats... I think this is going to be a good day."

Harry laughed. "You think right. Tonight after work I'm going to take you out to celebrate."

Draco didn't reply immediately, and Harry was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. He hummed while he waited for Draco to ask. It took him a full minute.

"Celebrate what?" He was looking vaguely alarmed, and Harry just knew he was wondering which anniversary he had forgotten.

"I bought a flat," Harry announced.

"Ah," Draco said, looking relieved for a moment and then disappointed. "That's good. For you, I mean."

"Isn't it?" Harry said enthusiastically. "I thought you would be happy for me."

"Yes. Very happy. I'm bursting with joy."

Harry chuckled. "Could you at least _try_ to be a better actor?"

"I'm sorry," Draco said, actually looking guilty for a moment. "I was just... I guess I was hoping you would consider moving in with me, at least during the summer."

Harry smiled and moved his chair so he could pull Draco into his lap. "So was I. Which is why I bought the flat above the shop. So I could see you more often. And move in together if you want."

Draco looked at him blankly for a few seconds and then he broke out into a bright smile. "You did?"

Harry nodded.

"That's... I would like that," Draco said and kissed him.

"Good." Harry grinned. "Because I already bought the bed and I'd hate to sleep in it alone."

"You're certainly not going to get much _sleep_ tonight, but I promise you we'll use the bed." Draco kissed him again and then moved out of his lap. "Now go. I need to bake."

"As you wish," Harry said, knowing he would be thinking about Draco's promise all day long. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"See you," Draco said, already bent over one of his recipes. Harry watched him for a moment and then _Apparated_.

It was going to be a long day, but it was worth it as long as he got to come home to that.


End file.
